One of the horror genre's "most widely read critics" (Rue Morgue # 68), "an accomplished film journalist" (Comic Buyer's Guide #1535), and the award-winning author of Horror Films of the 1980s (2007), The Rock and Roll Film Encyclopedia (2007) and Horror Films of the 1970s (2002), John Kenneth Muir, presents his blog on film, television and nostalgia, named one of the Top 100 Film Studies Blog on the Net.

In
this first season episode of the 1970s Filmation live-action series, Shazam,
Mentor (Les Tremayne) and Billy (Michael Gray) see a fishing trip derailed when
two irresponsible high school athletes intentionally spook a horse and its
rider, Kellie.

It
turns out that these athletes are attempting to keep Kellie Owens (Stephanie Steele) off the all-boys
track team…and are willing to do so by intimidation or even physical
threat. Later, the two boys frame Kellie
for cheating on a school exam, an infraction which could also jeopardize a
college scholarship.

Mentor
and Billy intervene, and one of the athletes reveals the truth…just in time.
Kellie goes on to win the scholarship, and a slot on the track-and-field
running team.

This
is another relatively undistinguished, small-potatoes episode of Shazam,
made memorable almost exclusively by the fact that the “bad” athlete, Jack, is
played by a teenage Butch Patrick, the cult-TV star of The Munsters (1964 –
1966) and Lidsville (1971).

Otherwise,
“The Athlete” bucks the series format by featuring a first-act appearance of
Captain Marvel (Jackson Bostwick), one which precedes the weekly tete-a-tete
with Elders. In this case, Captain
Marvel saves Kellie and her runaway horse.
He also appears later in the episode, when Kellie nearly rides her
motorcycle into a tractor on a dirt road.

As
is par for the course, there’s an After-School Special vibe to the
proceedings, although this week the Elders offer a nugget of wisdom that is
indeed true, and describes the great sweep of Civil Rights in America:

“Even when change
is right and just, there are those who through their attitudes resist it.”

Truer
words may never have been spoken…at least on a Saturday morning superhero
program.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Destination
Moon (1950)
is a space-age adventure film from another age, and as such, a kind of unique
film. The sixty-three year old sci-fi
movie involves the (fictional) first rocket launch to the moon, and the brave
astronauts who undertake that dangerous journey.

Destination
Moon’s
special effects and settings still look remarkably impressive today, even if
some dramatic scenes fall flat. Indeed,
the film’s biggest drawback involves the cookie-cutter main characters. There’s a scientist, an industrialist, a military
general, and a comic-relief “goombah”…and
only one of them appears to be under fifty-years old.

Still,
even this decided lack of “real” or dynamic human characters doesn’t undercut Destination
Moon’s stirring and tense finale, which sees the astronauts desperate
to lighten their rocket’s load in order to achieve escape velocity from the
Moon, and return home safely. This
climax generates the intense human interest that much of the film otherwise
lacks.

In
terms of today’s science fiction cinema, two scenes in Destination Moon seem to
have inspired at least a few notable “blockbuster” moments. One involves Woody Woodpecker (!), and an
audience-friendly, animated “educational film” of rocket launches, and the other
involves a dangerous Extra-Vehicular Maneuver on a rocket’s metal hull during
space flight.

Although
Destination
Moon’s characters never seem particularly human or real (and there is
nary a woman or person of color in sight…), this George Pal production
nonetheless continues to impress on the basis of the aforementioned scenes, and
the occasional spikes of style it deploys to make the tale both more dramatic
and suspenseful.

After
a recent government-sponsored rocket launch fails under extremely suspicious
circumstances, private industrialist Jim Barnes (John Archer) is convinced by
General Thayer (Tom Powers) and scientist Cargraves (Warner Anderson) to
spearhead a moon launch.He organizes a
cadre of private industrialists for that purpose, and builds a rocket called
Luna.

Rather
than wait for government approval of the ship’s atomic engine, however, the men
quickly find a replacement radio operator, Joe Sweeney (Dick Wesson), and
launch Luna early.

En
route to the moon, a problem with the radar antenna necessitates a hazardous spacewalk.

Following
a safe set-down on the lunar surface, the crew learns that it expended too much
fuel during the landing. If the men ever
hope to see terra firma again, they
must shed over one thousand pounds of equipment…and possibly personnel.

Time
is not always kind to movies, especially science fiction movies. More than anything else, films are a product
of their historical context, and so it is always tempting to gaze at an old
film and note how very, very wrong it gets the facts, those “what if” prophecies
about the shape-of-things no-longer-to-come.

By
today’s standards Destination Moon (1951) appears a bit antiquated in this very
fashion. Produced by the legendary
George Pal and directed by Irving Pichel, this movie imagines the first moon
landing, circa 1950, and frankly, it gets much right in terms of the science
involved in a rocket launch and the nature of the moon. The film should be roundly commended for such
a close attention to detail.

The
depiction of the moon’s surface, for one thing, is not far off.

For
another, the film attempts to accurately depict zero-gravity, and the lighter
gravity on the lunar surface, and again, by-and-large succeeds on such fronts.
The down-side is that the screenplay’s dialogue laboriously introduces and
explains such concepts, and audiences today don’t need the lecture. This would not have been true, however, in
1950.

Accordingly,
Destination
Moon is a film that -- unlike its contemporary Rocketship XM (1950) -- isn’t
really about space adventuring at all, but rather the nuts and bolts mechanics
underpinning space travel.

Whether
or not this quality makes the film less interesting or more interesting is a
matter for individual taste. That fact established,
the characters headlining Destination Moon don’t seem to have
been selected for their potential “interest” as human beings, but rather for
their (necessary) roles in making the fictional space journey possible.

And
unfortunately, for all the details Destination Moon gets right in terms
of science, it gets a lot wrong in terms of the eventual politics of American
space travel.

In
particular, the film boasts an obsessive -- almost rabid -- dislike of the U.S. government, and imagines that the
wealthy, independent scions of American private industry will band together to
conquer the moon…all for the common good of the nation.

In
fact, Barns -- the enthusiastic industrialist spearheading this mission to the
Moon -- launches his rocket early so as to avoid the U.S. government’s
excessive “red tape,” as well as the government’s concerns over the use of an untested
atomic engine near a populated area.

Of
course, this is a strange viewpoint about the
situation. The same industrialist’s last
rocket exploded on take-off,
scattering debris in its wake. Isn’t it
the government’s job to ensure the safety of the citizenry? Why, I wonder, is it so unacceptable that the
government would demand safety, especially for an atomic rocket launch in the American heartland? If there are Russian saboteurs around, as the film hints, wouldn't it be wise to take precautions?

So Destination
Moon suspiciously views the U.S. government as an insidious impediment, and nothing else, and that viewpoint is
short-sighted.

And
in the final analysis, we all now know that this viewpoint does not reflect
reality. It was NASA -- the government
-- which spearheaded man’s first landing on the moon in 1969, not private
industry. This inconvenient fact of history makes the film’s dialogue about the
virtues of private enterprise seem almost like Bernays-style propaganda in retrospect.

For
instance, the script, by Robert Heinlein, James O’Hanlon and Rip Von Ronkel,
boasts of big business --‘that’s where
the talent and energy is!’ even though we all now know -- or should
remember -- that many of our society’s impressive technological strides of the
last century, whether it be the moon landing or the development of the
Internet, were sponsored by dedicated individuals working in government.

That
doesn’t diminish those accomplishments one iota. Why can’t we love government and private
enterprise, and see that both sectors perform a necessary function in a civil,
functioning, technological society?

Also
rather unbelievable is the film’s idea that a rocket bound for the moon would
not require dedicated, trained crew,
and that an industrialist could lead the mission personally…with no prior space
training.

The
point I should carefully make here is that it doesn’t matter that the subject
matter of the film -- a private enterprise journey to the moon -- was proven
wrong by history. Things like that
happen all the time in science fiction cinema.
It’s that the film, in describing the moon venture is so wantonly
dismissive and negative about the role of government in such efforts. An agenda is clearly at work here, and one that
didn’t stand its first encounter with reality.

Setting
aside the aggressively, viscerally
pro-private industry agenda of Destination Moon it should be noted
that two scenes in the film point the way to future blockbusters of the genre.

In
one early scene, for instance, the industrialist shows a cartoon of the
proposed mission, starring Woody Woodpecker.
Woody adds humor to the informative cartoon about rocketry, and makes
the lecture go down easy. And if you’ve
ever seen Jurassic Park (1993), you’ll recognize that the animated Mr.
DNA performs precisely the same function in John Hammond’s video about the genetic
engineering of dinosaurs. There are many
decades separating these two films (over four, to be precise) and yet in both
circumstances humor and animation are used as “the medicine” to make the
science not just comprehensible, but tolerable.

Secondly,
a scene set in space here involves three astronauts needing to repair a radar
device on the exterior of their rocket. Destination Moon depicts the three
astronauts in space suits, leaving their spacecraft wearing magnetic boots. By our reckoning as third-person observers,
they stand upside down on the rocket hull. After adopting this perspective in
order to reveal the hazards of such a spacewalk, the film flips to a more
conventional “right-side up” perspective.

This
is precisely the visual set-up for a similar extra-vehicular scene in Star
Trek: First Contact (1996). In
that scene, three astronauts -- Picard, Worf and Hawk -- must prevent a Borg
modification of the Enterprise’s deflector dish. The scene begins with disorientation, with
the Starfleet officers “upside down” by the audience’s perspective, and then
rights that perspective quickly, so we are not hopelessly dizzy/sick/nauseated. The staging is so similar in First
Contact that the scene must be homage or tribute to Destination
Moon.

In
terms of the film’s other visuals, Destination Moon boasts moments of
extreme tension and suspense. On launch,
for instance, the film utilizes a series of progressive jump cuts -- growing
ever closer – of a countdown clock. This
technique augments audience involvement, and not one expensive optical effect
is required.

A
countdown also informs the film’s exciting finale. The crew has scant minutes to shed first 1000
lbs., and then 110 lbs., if it hopes to achieve escape velocity. What follows is a mad dash to toss out the
air lock everything thing not bolted down, from seat mattresses to radios, to
space suits. Once more anxiety and
uncertainty is amped up to a considerable level, especially as the crew begins
to reckon with the possibility of leaving one of their own behind.

Destination
Moon arrives
at its arousing conclusion with the inspiring on-screen words “The End of the
Beginning,” and that’s also a good way to parse the film’s place in film
history. It’s important that Destination
Moon was made at all, and that it takes such care to paint a
mostly-accurate vision of a trip to the moon.
If the Pal film had only tread less aggressively into philosophizing about
the role of private enterprise in an eventual moon landing, its reputation for
“accuracy” might be even stronger, to this very day.

Ideal's Robot Commando -- "The amazing mechanical man" -- arrived in toy stores across America well before my time, at the beginning of the sixties.

Although I've never owned one of these toys, that fact hasn't changed my admiration for this retro-futuristic Marvin Glass creation. Joel and I often surf Youtube together looking for old toy robot commercials, and we came across this fellow a few years back (as well as Ideal's the Great Garloo).

Standing an impressive 19" tall, Robot Commando "responds to commands" by pressing a control lever and speaking into a microphone. He can also fire rockets out of his eyes (black marbles) and make beeping sounds.

Cast in blue and red plastic Robot Commando moves about on rubber wheels and operates on three D batteries. Once -- on November 5, 1961 -- the big metal guy even made the cover of the Chicago Tribune Magazine with his creator. Below that image, you'll find the great Robot Commando commercial.

At the height of the early-1980s 3-D craze and not even a full week before the highly-anticipated release of George Lucas's Return of the Jedi (1983), American movie-going audiences were introduced to Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone, a space-age pastiche of Old West cliches, post-apocalyptic designs, and desert planet tropes.

The Lamont Johnson-directed film stars Peter Strauss as a space-going cowboy and gun-for-hire, Wolff, and a very young, very scruffy Molly Ringwald as Niki, a "scav" (scavenger) girl from distant "Terra 11." These unlikely partners team up to rescue three female refugees from a damaged luxury liner who have fallen into the (prosthetic) grip of a planetary despot, "Overdog" (Michael Ironside).

I still remember seeing this low-budget film with my parents (at the tender of age 13, I guess...) and thinking that Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone was pretty godawful. It didn't fit any of my pre-conceived expectations for a space adventure at that time (which today, I realize, is not necessarily a bad thing.)

And yet, simultaneously -- even as a kid -- I was highly intrigued by the film and the unusual "garbage"-punk-styled world it presented with such dedication and flamboyance. To my young mind, the movie also somehow felt dangerous and decorum-shattering in a way that bigger budget films clearly did not. There was a overwhelming and unsettling feeling that the Spacehunter story-line might head in some...unsavory directions.

When I screened the film again last night -- without 3-D, obviously -- I enjoyed Spacehunter much more than I had in the past, and I was able to process some of the reasons for my initial reaction all those years (and decades...) ago. The strengths of the film involve two thematic ingredients, in particular.

First, Spacehunter is actually a kind of forward-thinking, early cyberpunk effort in shape and scope; and secondly, the film gets a lot of mileage out of its post-modern references to the history of science fiction; particularly what might be affectionately termed "pulp" fiction.

"They've come a long way since Monday Night Football..."

Unlikely partners: Niki (Ringwald) and Wolff (Strauss).

Spacehunter's narrative commences when Wolff and his sexy android companion, Chalmers (Andrea Marcovicci) receive a "Bullet-text" message that three women have survived a disaster in space, and crash-landed on a quarantine planet, Terra 11. In hopes of earning the "mega-credit" reward for their rescue, Wolff sets course for the planet and lands on the arid, inhospitable world.

Unfortunately, Chalmers is killed -- or rendered inoperable -- during Wolff's first engagement on the planet. He attempts to intercept the three marooned passengers on a kind of sail train, but forces of the local dictator, Overdog, intercept them.

In his all-terrain vehicle, "The Scrambler," Wolff navigates "the Zone" in search of his quarry. Unexpectedly, he is assisted by Niki, a young girl with a tough exterior who longs for friendship. An able "tracker," Nicki leads Wolff through deadly adventures with the Zone's residents, including obese bat creatures (!) and sexy Amazon women seeking robust breeding stock.

Also on the planet is a soldier-of-fortune named Washington (Ernie Hudson), who once served in the military with Wolff and is also hoping to collect the reward for the safe return of the three women. Together, Wolff, Washington and Niki infiltrate Overdog's headquarters, where he is conducting gladiatorial games, and attempt to complete the mission.

"Why can't anything be simple, anymore?"Spacehunter as Cyberpunk

﻿﻿﻿

On Terra 11, the forces of Overdog lay siege to a sail barge/train.

﻿First, I believe it's fair to state that Spacehunter is, at least marginally, an early "cyberpunk"-styled film. If you consider the essential requirements of that sub-genre, it usually features loners functioning in a near future, dystopian setting.

Here, the screenplay actually describes Wolff as a loner, the setting is the mid-22nd (maybe a hundred years from now), and the dystopian setting is not a failed state; but a failed planet. Terra 11 has fallen into chaos and become a "Quarantine Restricted Planet" after the "PSI Plague" hit in 2021.

Additionally, Spacehunter deals with such cyber punk issues as artificial intelligence: Chalmers is an android, an engineer and apparently a sex-bot too. Also, in keeping with the cyber-punk format, prosthetics (artificial enhancements of missing human limbs) play a role in the story. Overdog, like Darth Vader before him, seems more machine than man.

According to a good, general definition at Wikipedia, cyberpunk fiction and film are often-described as "high tech" and "low life" and Spacehunter doesn't precisely fit that bill. It's got the low-life part down, all right, and outside of Terra 11 there are some examples of high tech. But on the broken world of Terra 11, there is no real "high" anything (except as provided by the "mood-enhancers" of the plague-ridden villain called "The Chemist.")

Although the Internet and computer world do not play a meaningful role in Spacehunter either, there is at least, through bullet-text updates, the suggestion of an inter-connected universe. And how that advanced technology is utilized certainly suggests the low-life. For instance, a message at the beginning of the film reports to Wolff that he is wanted in association with failing to pay over a hundred parking tickets; and that he ran out paying on his ex-wife's alimony. This is exactly the seedy vibe of some cyberpunk efforts or what author and scholar Paul Meehan might term "tech noir."

From the film's very first shot -- a view of rusted metal plate lined with rivets, subsequently smashed by the film's title card -- Spacehunter seems legitimately about breaking things open in the genre. Blasting through the past, and creating -- in the best and most vivid terms it can -- a broken down future world. To me, that seems very cyber punk-ish.

"I Love Your Planet:" Spacehunter as Pulp Science Fiction

Wanted: Breeding Stock. Meet the Amazon Women of Terra 11...

Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone features android sex-bots, cannibalistic mutants, life-force draining machines, Amazon women in search of breeding stock and other touches that, as long time sci-fi fans, we should all recognize as being of distinctly "pulp" origins.

That means, essentially, the film appeals not just to the imagination and futurist in us...but to our glands. This is the element I believe I picked up on as a teenager; the sense of lurid sexuality on display during two interludes in the film.

In the first instance, the evil Overdog instructs a guard to "undress" one of his captive women "...slowly." The guard does so -- before our eyes -- and it's weird and disturbing. Overdog is more machine than man, as I noted above, so what physical "interest" is he satisfying here? Just looking? Or does he have prostheses the audience hasn't seen? Regardless, the implication is of a most abnormal and perverse appetite.

In the second instance, Wolff and Niki drive the Scrambler into a high-techcavern populated by scantily-clad, voluptuous Amazon women. These sexy women surface from beneath the water, ogle Peter Strauss and decide that he is good "breeding stock." In the film's funniest moment, one of the Amazon women wagers he would "not survive" the breeding process.

"I'll take that bet," Wolff replies, without missing a beat...

Yeah, it's sleazy and sexist, I suppose, but these scenes arise from a real and common tradition in the pulp magazinesof the 1950s; a tradition which frequently sees scantily clad damsels in distress held unconscious in the arms of a monster or an alien, to be used -- ostensibly -- for some unspeakable, inhuman pleasure.

I can't argue that's nice or high-brow, or even inoffensive, but Spacehunter undeniably pay tribute to long-standing pulp tradition at the same time it looks forward to the next iteration of the genre: cyberpunk.

"Us loners got to stick together."﻿

Overdog (Michael Ironside)

﻿A little sleaze goes a long way when a film features a sturdy and charming sense of humor, and that's the case with Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone.

I admire how the film creates its own "future language" and how the screenplay allows the barely-educated Niki to mangle the King's English more than any dramatic character since Mrs. Malaprop.

I also got a kick out of Overdog's smiling admission that he is a liar, after promising to let Nicki go should she escape the gladiatorial maze. It's a funny moment.

The dialogue in Spacehunter is quippy, creative and kind of funny, and the visualizations of the dystopic world prove stunning at points. These images feature some nice, unexpected details too. For instance, when Wolff boards the sail barge during a battle, down on the deck we see, briefly, cages filled with livestock. The cages are uncommented on, but provide evidence that a production designer was imagining a larger world; one where food (and the transport of food) had to be accounted for.

So yes, this movie is low-budget, low-brow, lurid, action-packed and much more fun than I gave it credit for being some twenty-seven years ago. There's a strong aura of a danger throughout, a great villain, and plenty of guffaws (not to mention a closing act cameo by television's favorite rock formation, Vasquez Rocks).

For all its brazen political incorrectness, Spacehunter boasts "a very enviable life force," to quote Overdog. I don't know that I can defend the film on many high-brow intellectual terms, but I also don't know that I need to.

The movie scavenges the new genre of cybyerpunk and the old traditions of the pulp sci-fi magazine in a manner that, on retrospect, seems pleasing and diverting. In the final analysis, Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone is assembled -- like Overdog himself -- out of a lot of interesting spare parts. .

Monday, April 15, 2013

“We all know of TV series whose life was cut too short by low
ratings. The Internet is littered with fan campaigns to bring back shows, some
successful and some not.

But what about the opposite? Any shows you felt actually went
on too long? Shows that dragged out a quest past the point of tedium? Or shows
that wrote themselves into corners?”

I love this question! It’s a good one, and a nice inversion of the
idea of TV programming that gets cut down in its prime.

My answer probably won’t be popular, but I feel
that the first several Berman Era Star Trek shows -- The Next
Generation (1987 – 1994), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993 –
1999) and Star Trek Voyager (1995 – 2001) -- all peaked in their sixth
seasons, and the seventh (and final) seasons tended to be big disappointments,
featuring many episodes that just didn’t succeed artistically.

I am a big Star Trek fan, obviously, and feel
especially fond towards Deep Space Nine, but I can’t say
that I ever fully got on board with the notion of Captain Sisko’s mother Sarah
having been possessed by the Wormhole aliens/prophets, thus transforming the
good Captain into a quasi-alien character with mystical qualities. The final episodes of the series -- with
wraiths and other “magical” forces battling it out felt -- like a betrayal to
me of Star Trek’s scientific, secular grounding.

But in particular I feel that this plot development
with Sisko was poorly conceived and took away from the “human” adventure. I similarly disliked the idea (presented
earlier than the seventh season if memory serves…), of Dr. Bashir being a
genius genetic augment

For some reason, the people behind these Trek
series felt it necessary to have every character boast some “special” power or
capability by the end of the run. They
couldn’t just be human heroes, like Kirk, McCoy, or Scotty. I felt that the Sarah Sisko plot just
stretched the idea way beyond believability.

The last season of Star Trek: The Next Generation,
featured some really dreadful episodes (“Phantasms,” “Dark Page,” “Homeward,” “Sub
Rosa,” “Eye of the Beholder” and “Emergence”), but none worse than “Force of
Nature,” which rewrote the rules of Star Trek to suggest that warp
speed travel was an environmental hazard to space/time. You would think that the Traveler’s people --
who zipped about at speed far greater than the Enterprise ever did -- would have
been aware of this fact. This idea is
probably one of the worst conceits in Star Trek history, and follow-up
episodes had to laboriously explain why the Enterprise was breaking the
restriction on warp speed limits. Yech.

Star Trek: Voyager
ended on a sour note for me with the unexpected, unnatural development of a
Chakotay/Seven of Nine romance. These
two characters and performers shared no chemistry, and no history of romance,
and the whole plot was as contrived as the Sarah Sisko revelation on Deep
Space Nine. The first several
seasons had established the groundwork for a Janeway/Chakotay rapport and
connection, and by the seventh season the idea was just dropped. Also, the episode that brought Kes back into
the fold is one of the worst stories I’ve ever seen on network television.

So, in my opinion all three programs hung around
too long, especially since the sixth season was so strong in the case of Next
Gen and DS9.

So far as programs writing themselves into a
corner, I’m afraid I’m going to harp on the two genre programs I have commented
negatively upon lately, the remade Battlestar Galactica and Lost.

I would again like to plead my case that I don’t
hate these programs or feel that they were worthless, only that in the end they
both squandered a great deal of audience love and good faith by having no real
plan for their closing seasons or installments.

Both shows had to go endure creative contortions
to justify their ending episodes, and even with those contortions, the finales
failed to impress.

So many mysteries on Lost were never adequately explained. The Others, who originally
could seemingly rip people out of existence, changed into just another tribe on
the island, for example. The series introduced --
and then just as quickly dropped -- the Tail-ies
and new characters such as Mr. Eko, Nikki and Paolo. The overall impression was of a series
lurching from one idea to the other with no coherent plan at all.

Battlestar Galactica
similarly had to survive creative contortions to justify Mrs. Tigh as a secret
Cylon, and the whole final subplot with Starbuck as some kind of weird angel-thing
just never worked at all.

Lost peaked after one season
in my opinion, and BSG after two.

It’s ironic, but after the finales of both
programs, fan interest dropped off precipitously because the final chapters
didn’t live up to expectations. Had Lost
or BSG
been canceled earlier, they would be championed and talked about constantly today as great sci-fi series
that died before their time.

Instead, they serve as powerful reminders to current genre
programs of a serialized nature that all the artistic and creative “good”
leading up to the last chapter may be, in the end, worthless, if the final “pages”
of the story disappoint.

About John

award-winning author of 27 books including Horror Films FAQ (2013), Horror Films of the 1990s (2011), Horror Films of the 1980s (2007), TV Year (2007), The Rock and Roll Film Encyclopedia (2007), Mercy in Her Eyes: The Films of Mira Nair (2006),, Best in Show: The Films of Christopher Guest and Company (2004), The Unseen Force: The Films of Sam Raimi (2004), An Askew View: The Films of Kevin Smith (2002), The Encyclopedia of Superheroes on Film & Television (2004), Exploring Space:1999 (1997), An Analytical Guide to TV's Battlestar Galactica (1998), Terror Television (2001), Space:1999 - The Forsaken (2003) and Horror Films of the 1970s (2002).

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